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The smell of beer was thick, and music competed with shouting voices.

Frozen in place, Tara and I stared, then glanced back at our map, which had diligently guided us to this spot.“Maybe it’s further down,” one of us whispered.“Yeah.

Probably.”Slowly, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves, we backed away.

Quickening our pace, we continued down the alley, our hearts clamoring up our throats and fingers locked together, clinging to one another for dear life.

At the late hour, nerves on a razor’s edge, they were not encouraging.

Macabre images, unsettling symbols, and foreign words leered at us, painted on every conceivable concrete surface, turned sinister in the darkness.

There are three stations in Kamnik, with Kamnik-Mesto the closest to the Old Town.

Continuing onward, it quickly became evident that there was nowhere to go.

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